


Freeing Her Soul

by Magpie_Holmes



Series: The Detective and the Thief [2]
Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock- Fandom
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon Divergence, F/M, Freeing Her Soul, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Mystery, POV First Person, Romance, Sequel, Smut, Stealing His Heart Sequel, Suspense, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 07:58:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12406296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magpie_Holmes/pseuds/Magpie_Holmes
Summary: 'Did you miss me? Did you? Why won't you just DIE?'What happens when you choose to marry the world's most famous consulting detective and you have a psychotic sister whose husband is obsessed with your fiance? Absolute, utter chaos is what ensues. As the future Mrs. Holmes, I should be used to chasing after the bad guys, hunting them down. I should be used to the game. But it turns out that I am only just learning how it is played.*Sequel to Stealing His Heart*





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> This is written in 1st person. All rights belong to BBC. I only wanted to borrow the characters. Reviews are always appreciated and will be cuddled and thanked profusely. Constructive criticism is always welcome as well. We only grow by learning from others. This work does touch on some dark/heavy themes and I will post a warning for everyone so they're not surprised. Sequel to Stealing His Heart.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart to all those who have read _Stealing His Heart_ and who have been encouraging me to continue with the sequel. It makes me so happy to see that people are actually enjoying what I'm writing. I hope I do this justice for all of you. Enjoy!


	2. Chapter One: Flowers at the Funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Oh God, where am I? What happened? What...Moriarty._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence in this chapter as well as cursing.

_‘Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Miss me? MISS ME?’_

I jerked upright, gasping for air, looking around. The shivering began immediately and I realized that I was outside, exposed to the elements. A cold rain was blowing in from an open wall. I spotted my sister and Moriarty talking under an umbrella. I feigned being unconscious as I saw them begin to turn towards me.

“Delilah, we know that you’re awake. May as well open your eyes and look at what we have in store for you.” Her sing-song voice pierced my aching head and I could hear the heels of her boots clicking against the concrete towards me. A hand patted me on the cheek. “Come on, open your eyes sweet sister of mine.”

Despite my better judgment, I opened my eyes to find her kneeling down in front of me, a vicious smile on her face. I looked away, trying to hide the disgusted look on my face. I stared out of the open space, trying to get my bearings, head still reeling from the drugs they’d given me. “Where are we?”

“Look around and you tell us,” Olivia said, her tone mocking me. “But first, why don’t you look down at yourself?”

I glanced down at myself, my heart stopping in my chest for a brief moment before it started pounding away again. “Is that-?”

“PE-4, yes." I sat up to face Moriarty, who stared out at the London skyline, face in profile to me. “Sherlock has no doubt received my message, although, from what I heard through the grapevine, he isn’t allowed in London. Pity that. I can only hope that I managed to panic everyone into letting him come back. It would be no fun to kill you if he couldn't watch.” 

“How…how are you still alive?” I asked, trying to get my thoughts straight as I'd though seeing him in the flat had been a dream. “I mean, Sherlock watched you kill yourself. He told me that you shoved a gun in your mouth and pulled the trigger. He watched you bleed out on the roof of St. Bart's.”

Moriarty laughed and I winced at the maniacal sound of it. “So he thought. But Sherlock needs to remember that I am always two steps ahead of him. _Always._ ” He laughed again. "Would you like to know how I managed to fool your idiot fiance?"

“Yes.”

In response, he pulled my sister in his arms, kissing her passionately. I fought the urge to gag at the sight of them. As he broke away from her, he motioned for me to stand up. I did so slowly, finding that I was still dizzy and lightheaded. He stepped towards me, leaning down next to my ear.

"The only way you will ever know how I survived my suicide would be if you had me at gun point." He stepped away, grinning from ear to ear, black eyes glittering with glee. “Livvy, do you have the camera ready? I want Sherlock to watch as his world burns."

“Ready whenever you are my love. Do you think he’s watching?”

“Oh, I think all of _London_ is watching with baited breath. Start recording.” I heard the telltale beep of her phone recording and Moriarty took my arm, walking me to the edge of the building. “Sherlock Holmes, tell me, did you miss me?” His phone began to ring Staying Alive and I shuddered. “Oh yes, I can see that you did as you’re phoning me right this minute. Did you think that I was dead? In that little pea brain of yours, did you truly believe that I had disappeared into the shadows like the boogeyman? Did all of you fools think that I would go out so easily with a bullet to the brain?” He laughed, staring directly into the camera. “Sherlock, when we first met in that pool, I told you what I would do. I would burn the _heart_ out of you. And look what I have at my fingertips!”

Olivia swung the camera towards me and I looked away, refusing to give them the satisfaction of playing into their little games. Moriarty grabbed me by my hair, forcing me to look at it. “Look and show him. Show him your fear. Show him your panic, your devastation. Show him that you are resigned to the fate of _death._ You see, Sherlock, you now have a choice. Either choose her or choose the members of Parliament who are now facing death by a mixture of ebola and bubonic plague. Oh and did I mention that your _brother_ is in that room right now?”

I gulped, beginning to shake, skin breaking out into a thin sheen of sweat. They didn’t. They couldn’t _have._ There was no way, Scotland Yard and MI6 had confiscated all of the biological weaponry, the plans, _everything._ How was this possible? Moriarty answered my question for me.

“Perhaps you figured it out by this point Sherlock. Did you think I would send my wife to Magnussen for no reason? I traded him those tapes in exchange for all of the plans on how to build the biological weapons you took from us. It didn’t take long and planting it in Parliament was quite easy to do. There were quite a few disgruntled employees who were more than happy to install it into the vents.” I began to cry as I watched him grinning into the camera. “Now, your choice. Do you watch her die and save your brother? Or do you destroy the entirety of the British government to save the woman you love?”

Olivia swung the camera to me. “Plead for your life Del. Make it convincing. I know you can. I’ve seen you act, lie to everyone that you’ve ever cared about. Or can you only do that when Sherlock asks you to?”

I tried to speak, but my voice cracked with fear. I cleared my throat, taking a deep breath before staring directly into the camera. “Sherlock, if you are watching, you must go to Parliament. You have to stop them. My life is nothing compared to the need for a government. I am no damsel in distress. Do not come and rescue me. _Do not._ I would rather die than you abandon your brother and your duty to this country.”

“Well, not the plea I was expecting, but I can work with it!” Moriarty clapped his hands together with glee and I noticed he was holding something in his left hand. “In fact, I’ll give you a fighting chance. In my hand is the dead man’s switch to the vest that you’re wearing. There is a small catch however. If I give this to you, you have to walk out onto the end of that beam to try and get out of your vest. Your choice. Will you take the switch and try to get your way out of this? Or do I let go of it once Olivia and I are on our way out of London to watch the chaos unfold?”

I held out my hand. “Give me the switch.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Give. Me. The switch.”

Moriarty held it out to me and my heart began to race in my chest. I placed my thumb on the button over his and he slipped his out with ease. I waited for the explosion, but it never came. Instead, my thumb formed a death grip on the button and my sister pulled her pistol out, pointing it at me.

“Your end of the bargain now. Out onto the beam,” she said, waving me out. I looked at the wet steel, my stomach sinking. I took one step, feeling the wind tearing at me, my foot slipping under me. “Come on now, we haven’t got all day. Things to do, people to murder, governments to topple. Let’s go!”

“I am going,” I snapped, wincing at the sound of the gunshot, the bullet pinging off the beam. In my surprise I nearly let go of the switch. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

I got out to the middle of the beam, doing my best to hold my balance as the wind ripped at me, the rain blinding me momentarily. My teeth chattered, but I stared at Olivia and Moriarty standing in the building under the umbrella. Olivia was still filming with one hand, the gun in the other. Moriarty blew me a kiss.

“I had a lovely time seeing you again Delilah. Now, why don’t you just die like a good girl? We've got to leave or else we would stay and watch the fireworks ourselves.”

They began to walk away and I shouted, “Moriarty! If I am going to die, fulfill this final wish. How did you manage to survive?”

He turned back around, giving me his signature twisted grin. “You're still going on about that? Tell you what, if you manage to survive this somehow, I will tell you over a lovely cup of tea. Ta-ta Delilah dear!”

They walked away and I looked around, trying to avoid looking at the ground. “Okay. Okay okay okay. Let’s think. What do we know?”

_‘Well, we’re about thirty stories above London, there’s a crowd gathering below, as well as police officers. That means Sherlock or someone else figured out your location and dispatched police to you. Hopefully he’s going to Parliament to rescue them instead of you. You have a vest of PE-4 strapped to your chest and a dead man’s switch in your hand. What more do you need?’_

My phone began to ring and I reached down into my pocket, feeling my foot slip. I regained my balance, forcing myself to slow down before gingerly pulling the phone from my pocket. It was a withheld number, but I knew who was calling. “I’m a little busy.”

“Oh I know. I wanted to fill you in on one more little detail I forgot to mention," Moriarty tittered and I could hear my sister snickering in the background. "You have to get that vest off of you before you step off the beam or else my sniper will put a bullet in that foolish little brain of yours. Probably should have mentioned it earlier, but it slipped my mind. Anyway, I hope you have a wonderful time trying to solve this problem. Well, a short wonderful time as you won't make it too long. May as well make your last phone calls because either you’re going to get blown off by the wind or blown up. We're making a bet on how long you'll last. Would you care to make a wager?” 

"Go to hell you miserable bastard. You and that cunt that I once called my blood!" I snarled into the phone.

Moriarty tsked to me over the phone. "Temper, temper Ms. Delilah. Where on earth did you get such a vulgar mouth from? Well, I wish you good luck then and do write from the other side if you can."

The call ended and I cursed, shoving the phone back into my pocket. The despair began welling up in my chest. How was I going to get out of this? I wasn’t Sherlock. I couldn’t recall anything I’d ever read about bombs.

_‘Maybe you can. Close your eyes. Go to your Library.’_

“Are you insane?!” I shouted at the empty air. “If I do that now I’ll fall off!”

_‘In there is all the information you need on how to get out of that vest. You and Sherlock studied bombs together when you were working on your sister's first plot. Don’t you remember?’_

I sighed, closing my eyes, trying to get the best balance I could on the beam before going to my library. I had to work fast. I began to search through all the books, tossing them over my shoulder if they weren’t what I needed.

“Where would it be? Where would it be?” I chanted under my breath, hands scrambling across the spines of books.

**_“DELILAH! DO NOT MOVE!” Lestrade shouted at me, no doubt through some sort of megaphone or bullhorn. “WE ARE TRYING TO GET IN CONTACT WITH A BOMB SQUAD TO COME AND DISARM THE BOMB!”_ **

I ignored him, the pile of books behind me growing. My heart began to race and I stumbled back on the beam as the wind blew once more, the rain making it slick under my feet. I vaguely felt the cold settling into my bones, but I ignored it, instead trying to find the book. I was about to give up hope when I found the small gold book with a timer on the front and a hundred wires around it.

“How to Defuse a Bomb. Perfect.” I began to flip through the pages. “Alright, so, what wires can I cut?”

I was on the beam again, looking down at the vest. I frowned. Two of the wires that I couldn’t cut were across the front. So I’d have to worm my way out of the vest without breaking either of the two wires on the front. I went back to my library, skimming over the book. I cursed. Even if I somehow managed to defuse the PE-4, with the dead man’s switch still in play, I could still blow up, especially if there were wires inside of the vest that I couldn’t see.

I jerked back to the beam, arms wind-milling as I struggled to keep my balance. The crowd below gasped and I managed to catch myself. My breathing quickened and I could feel my lungs tighten up. I took a few slow, deep breaths before reaching for the phone I’d placed back in my pocket. I scrolled through the contacts quickly before hitting send.

“Delilah! Don’t worry, we’re sending someone up to you to-”

“Don’t bother,” I said, interrupting Greg. “Unfortunately for me, Moriarty wants me very dead. There’s a sniper with a shot trained on me should anyone try to help me or should I try to walk off the beam. If you send them up, they may be killed.” The silence on the end of the line was less than reassuring. “Get the people below back about a hundred meters. I’ve got enough explosive on me to blow up an entire city block if I mess this up and I’d rather no one else get killed if I can help it. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah, I can. But what about you? You can’t-“

“I’m going to try. I’ve lived with Sherlock long enough. Let’s see if any of it has rubbed off on me. Greg...if I die-”

“You’re not going to!”

“If I do, look out for Sherlock for me. Can you do that?”

The silence on the other end of the phone was deafening. “Fine. But if you make it out of this, you owe me a drink.”

“Alright. Talk to you soon if God decides to smile on me today.”

I hung up the phone, scrolling through my contacts once again. I landed on the next person on my list before hitting send. It rang once, twice.

“Delilah, I am a bit _busy_ at the moment,” Mycroft answered, his voice filled with venom. 

"I realize this Mycroft. I'm no idiot. Are they holding you hostage?”

“What do you think?”

“One man at each door, all wired up with explosives and guns pointed at you?”

“You have become my brother’s fiance, haven’t you? Yes, they have. And I can see the canisters in the air vents now.”

“How many would die if you went to disarm them?”

“Too many. I would if I tried. They already told us the only person allowed to try and stop them is Sherlock.” Mycroft sighed. “I had a feeling he was still alive. When I held him for questioning one time, he said that he had great things in store for London. I figured that his insanity got the better of him on that roof.”

“So...he managed to fool even you. This is bloody fantastic.” I sighed heavily, taking a half step backwards to keep my balance as the wind blew again. “Do you have any plans?”

“A few. But as I told you last night, it all comes down to Sherlock.” Mycroft sighed. “I should have known this was coming. Your deranged sister and my little brother’s psychotic arch nemesis together.”

“They’re perfect for each other. Both insane and both hellbent on destroying everything of importance.”

Mycroft chuckled softly. “I can’t say that I disagree. I do hope that you get out of that jacket. I feel as if we’ve much to discuss.”

“Oh, we do. Believe me, we do. I hope you make it out of Parliament alive.”

“I intend to. Make your other phone calls.”

Mycroft hung up the phone and I looked down, happy to see that the crowd below had been pushed back. There were still police officers below. I looked around, trying to determine where the sniper was. I couldn’t see anyone, but my best guess was going to be the skyscraper across the street. I unzipped the front of the vest, fighting the urge to shiver. My fingers were starting to go numb and I knew that I needed to hurry up and get off the beam before I started becoming hypothermic.

My phone began to ring and my heart leapt in my chest. “Sherlock?”

“Delilah, what in the world are you thinking?” Sherlock snapped. “Telling me to go and get my _brother?_ He can fend for himself. I’m coming to get you.”

“No! Go and get your brother! Have you even spoken to Mycroft?”

“I’m sure he and his team are fine.” 

“They’re not. Moriarty placed guards at each door strapped with vests like mine. None of them can do anything and Mycroft can’t disarm them without massive casualties. I will be fine.”

Sherlock sighed. “Why are you always so stubborn?”

“Sherlock. If it comes down to me versus the good of the free world, I’d much rather you save the world. I will get out of this.”

“I’m having a friend of mine call you after I hang up. They’ve dealt with Moriarty on a much more intimate level. If you get a call from a withheld number, answer it.”

I sighed. “Are you going to give me his name?”

“Hers. And it’s Irene Adler.”

The phone cut out and I sighed. I began to edge towards the unfinished building when I heard the sound of metal striking metal, the bullet ricocheting off to God knew where. I shook my head. I was on my own with this; no one could help me, no one could get me out of it.

My finger was growing slick on the switch from the rain and my teeth began to chatter once more. I was estimating that I only had ten to fifteen minutes before the shakes grew so violent that I wouldn’t be able to get out of the vest. My phone began to ring again.

“I am assuming that this is Irene Adler?” I asked as I answered the phone.

“And you would assume right. So, you’re Sherlock’s new girlfriend hmmm?”

“Aye. That I am. Now the question is, who are _you?”_

“An old friend of his. I’ve been informed of your precarious position. Tell me, how did he set it up?”

“Two of the wires that cannot be cut are across the front, I have a dead man’s switch in my left hand, and I am fairly certain that some of the wires I need to cut are on the inside of the vest.”

“Oooh. He went to a lot of trouble to rig that then. Little Jimmy wants you dead it seems.”

“So I’ve noticed,” I growled through gritted teeth. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“What sort of flowers would you like at your funeral?”

“Pardon?”

“Flowers at your funeral? Sherlock will need to know when he’s planning it. Unfortunately, I’m afraid there’s no way for you to get out of that vest without blowing up. I’ll let Sherlock know.” There was a pause at the end of the line. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”

The line went dead and I stared at the screen blankly. When what Irene had said finally registered, I let out a shriek of anger. In my fit of rage, I threw the phone, watching as it tumbled through the sky to fall to the street below. I began to weep. I was going to die, no matter what I tried to do. It was only a matter of which would be more painless, the fall, the explosion, or the gunshot.

_‘No. No, you are not quitting. Think. Think!’_ The voice in my head shouted. _‘Is there anything that can help you, any past conversation, anything? Go back. When was the last time that your sister saw you?’_

“Besides today? The last time would have been at the school after John and Mary were married," I muttered to myself, fighting the urge to pace.

_‘Okay. And what has changed since she saw you?’_

“I...I’m not sure.”

_‘What has changed about you since she saw you last? There is something there, you only have to look back. Think!'_

_‘You barely eat, you hardly sleep,’ John's voice echoed in my mind._

_‘Pale skin, dark circles, bloodshot eyes...nearly a stone lost.,’ Sherlock piped up._

I began to smile, looking down at the vest. “My weight. Yes! When she saw me last, I was nearly a stone heavier. So..that would mean that the vest would be oversized. Which means if I am careful enough, I should be able to wiggle my way out of it!”

_‘It’s better to try than to give up. What have you really got to lose?’_

“Of course. Of course! Oh thank you Lord! Thank you!” I pulled my right arm in slowly, careful not to tug on any of the wires on the inside of the vest. “But now, the question is what’s going to stop the sniper from taking me out once I get this vest off?”

_‘A distraction,’_ the voice in my head said again. _‘You’re wearing the perfect one on your chest and you’ve got the switch to set it off in your hand. What more could you ask for?’_

I nodded, pulling my left arm through the other hole now. I hissed as the wires on the front stretched, terrified that they were going to break. I let out all the air in my lungs to take pressure off of the wires, knowing that I was in one of the most precarious positions I could be in. I had no balance, no way of steadying myself should the wind blow again. I would only have one chance to get out of it.

I bent over at the waist, letting the vest slide off of me. It began to fall off when it got caught on my hair. I tried to pull, but my hair was very stuck. I tried to see which wire it was. I closed my eyes, letting out a silent prayer as I wriggled my way back up to the wire.

_‘Please God. Please let this be a good wire.’_

I bit down on it, grinding my teeth back and forth to cut the wire. Electricity stung my tongue and I yelped, fighting the urge to jerk up or backwards. My heart roared in my ears as I waited for the explosion. It never came and I let the vest fall off of me. I caught it in my right hand, hurling it out towards the building where I thought the sniper was perched. I made a leap back to the new building as I let go of the switch.

The explosion slammed into me like a freight train and I was sent sprawling across the concrete floor. The pain was intense, but I scrambled to my feet, knowing that if I didn’t move, that sniper would get a bead on me again. I could hear the screams of people below and that was when I heard it. The beep of a clock counting down. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the present that Moriarty had left for me.

“God damn it!” I screamed, taking off down the stairs, the image of 1:30 in red numbers imprinted on my mind. “Why? Why can’t I have a single _fucking_ break?”

_‘Why don’t you just die?’_ Moriarty laughed in my mind as I leapt over the railing of the stairwell, landing on a wooden platform. I rolled, wincing at the pain in my back. _‘Why don’t you just die?’_

“Shut up!” I snarled to the empty air, making the next leap.

_‘Come on now, move! You’ve got roughly forty seconds before the bombs detonate.’_

I looked down to the bottom of what would have become a stairwell at some point. I judged the distance between the platform I was on and the next. It was probably about ten feet. What did I have to lose? I made the leap and as I began to roll, I heard the wood underneath me crack. I let out a scream as I plummeted to the concrete floor below. I managed to catch the edge of another platform, clinging to it for dear life.

_‘Thirty seconds. Come on now. Move!’_

I hauled myself up, throwing myself through the doorway and out another floor of the building. The world slowed down as I took in the scene. In the back of my mind I could hear the beep of the timer on the bomb.

_‘Fifth floor up, twenty-two seconds left on the clock. Building across the street is lower than this, fifteen to twenty foot drop. Would be clear of initial explosion, but shock wave would possibly incapacitate or kill me me. Place to hide...small brick wall down to a ledge on the opposite side of the building. Should shield me from the shock wave and the heat. The run and leap would take roughly nine to twelve seconds, giving me eight to eleven seconds to recover and dash to the other side. Go!’_

I was moving on instinct, going out to the edge before pushing off, free falling into empty space. My arms windmilled, my body bracing itself for impact. I was tucking myself in as my father had taught me all those many years ago, rolling. I felt the air leave my lungs as I landed wrong, twisting my ankle and smashing onto my ribs. I laid down on the ground for a moment, dazed.

_‘Nine seconds. **MOVE YOUR ASS**!’_

I sprinted for the opposite side, ignoring the pain in my back and ankle, the tightness in my chest. I could see the timer in my mind. I vaulted myself over the wall, landing on the small ledge, curling myself into a ball.

“One,” I muttered under my breath and I heard the sound of multiple explosions, chunks of concrete and rebar flying in every direction.

I tucked my head down, feeling the heat of the flames pass over me. I counted to ten before peeking my head up and over the edge. There was no half-way finished building anymore. Instead it was a pile of twisted metal and flames. I hoisted myself up over the wall, limping to look at the wreckage. In the distance I could hear the wails of fire and police sirens, as well as ambulances. I found the hatch that led down into the building and stumbled my way down the stairs, the residents all pushing and shoving their way out around me.

I got out onto the street, looking to see where Greg might be. I spotted him motioning for people to get back and stay back behind the barricade. I stumbled and staggered, my legs feeling like jelly, my heart thudding in my chest. I was shaking, my face was numb, I could barely breathe, and my back felt as though it was on fire. But I was alive. At least for that moment, I was alive. 

I tapped on his shoulder and I watched as he whirled, eyes going wide at the sight of me standing in front of him. “Holy shit. Delilah...y-you’re alive! You made it!” 

I nodded weakly, struggling to keep myself on my feet. “Aye...Greg...I need an ambulance.” 

As those words tumbled from my lips, I felt myself pitching forward into unconsciousness. 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

“Lila?” I could hear Sherlock’s voice, but I found that I had no energy to open my eyes. “Lila, can you hear me?” There was a pause and I heard the tears in his voice. “John, why isn’t she waking up? Why won’t she wake up?”

“Sherlock, she has been through a terrible ordeal. Second degree burns to most of her back, a broken ankle, three cracked ribs, mild hypothermia, and an asthma attack. That’s not even counting all of the muscle damage she caused herself as well as the cuts and bruises. Also, they only just removed her intubation tube this morning. Give it time.”

I felt someone take my hand. “Lila...if you can hear me, please, open your eyes. I need to know you’re okay. Please...I need you to be alright.”

I tried to focus my mind on my eyelids, on forcing them open. Slowly they lifted and I winced away from the light. Out of my peripheral I could see Sherlock was staring at me. I turned my head towards him, grimacing at the pain.

“John. John, she’s awake! She’s _awake!_ Lila, can you hear me?”

I nodded, checking myself over mentally. My ribs were aching with every breath, my throat was on fire, as was my back. I coughed, clenching my fist against the pain. I reached over to the machine by my bed, upping the dose of whatever pain medicine might be in there. I went to shift my legs when I felt a twinge of pain in my right ankle.

“What happened?” I whispered, staring at Sherlock. “Is your brother-?”

“My brother and the members of Parliament are fine. Mary and John managed to disarm Moriarty’s security and I disabled the canisters from releasing the vapor into the air. Moriarty and your sister managed to escape and you are in Saint Bartholomew’s.” Sherlock frowned. “Lestrade phoned me after you collapsed in the street. I arrived as soon as I heard. You’ve been unconscious for nine days.”

I nodded. “I feel like it. Hello John.” I smiled at the soldier standing at the foot of my bed. “How are you doing today?”

“A lot better than you it would seem. Jesus Delilah, what were you trying to do, kill yourself?”

I shook my head, clearing my throat. “Not at all. Could I get some water please?”

“I’ll go and fetch you some,” John said. “I’ll fetch your doctor as well. I’m sure that he’d like to know that you’re conscious.”

I watched John leave the room before turning to look at Sherlock. “Have you figured out how he managed to fake his own death?” 

“No. Mycroft and I are both investigating it. Mycroft has been trying to access the tapes from the cameras in that area for that day.”

“But?”

Sherlock frowned. “How did you know there was going to be a but?” 

“Call it a lucky guess.” 

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “There's no such thing as a lucky guess Lila. What happened on that roof?” 

I shrugged, choosing to lie as I didn't wish to speak on it. “I don’t remember Sherlock. It’s all a blur of adrenaline and explosions.” 

Sherlock frowned, searching my face. “You’re lying to me Lila. I can see it in your eyes.” 

I sighed. “Sherlock, I’ve just regained consciousness. Can we do this another time? How’s Scarlett?” 

“Fine. With Mary. Or Mrs. Hudson. They’ve been taking turns caring for her until you and I go home. Stop changing the subject.” 

“How long will that be?” I croaked, ignoring his comment as I attempted to sit myself up in bed. The pain in my back proved to great for me to overcome. 

“Another week or so barring any infections.” 

“Too long. I need to be out tomorrow.” 

“Your burns won’t let you do that I’m afraid,” an unfamiliar voice said from the doorway. “I’m Doctor Oswald. I’ve been your primary doctor since you arrived. How are you feeling? Scale of-?” 

“A two. Now can I go home?” I said impatiently. “There are a few things I need to take care of.” 

John handed me a glass of water and I took a sip, feeling tempted to rip the nasal cannula from my nose as it was irritating. “Del, you can’t leave just yet. You’re still recovering.” 

“I’m not staying here. There’s work to be done. It’s only a couple of broken ribs and some burns.” 

Sherlock shook his head. “It was a bit more than that. Multiple second degree burns to your back, three cracked ribs-” 

“A broken ankle and they only just removed the intubation tube. Yes. I heard John say it.” I tried to sit up again and the doctor came to stand next to me, putting his hand on my shoulder. I sighed. “Really? You’re going to keep me in here?” 

“Ms. McKinley, I’m going to insist on keeping you here at least for a couple of days, make sure there’s no infection of the burns and that your breathing returns to normal. There can be complications from intubation.” 

I frowned, looking at John and Sherlock. “I suppose neither of you would be willing to break me out of here?” They both shook their heads. “Fine. I’ll stay. But it’s only going to be two days.” 

“It’s a deal. Now, would you two mind leaving the room while I examine her?” Dr. Oswald asked and they both turned to leave when I shook my head, snatching Sherlock's hand despite the pain. 

“No. They stay here.” 

“Ms. McKinley, I am only doing this for your privacy. I highly doubt-” 

“They stay _here_. Either that or I raise a fuss about receiving my discharge papers.” 

The doctor looked to John and Sherlock. “Is she always this stubborn?” 

“Yes,” they said in unison and I smiled. 

“Am not.” 

“Well, I suppose I could use the assistance changing her bandages. If you wouldn’t mind that is Dr. Watson?” 

“No, not at all.” He stepped next to the bed. “What do you need me to do?” 

“Well, her broken ribs are on the right side, so we need to-” I was switching to my left, clamping down on my tongue, taking off the nasal cannula as I did. “Ms. McKinley, I understand you’re impatient but-” 

“Look, I don’t like hospitals. The sooner I am out of here, the happier I’ll be. I feel fine. A bit of pain but-” I clamped down on my tongue again as someone pulled one of the bandages off my back. “God damn it! You couldn’t have given me warning?” 

“No,” John replied. “Now stop arguing and let the doctor do his job.” 

“Fine,” I grumbled. “I’ll let you all do your work. Sherlock?” 

“Yes Lila?” 

“Could you hold my hand?” 

He crossed around the bed, going to sit in the chair next to me, taking my hand. “So.” 

“So.” I squeezed his hand, hissing as they pulled another bandage on. “Who’s Irene Adler?” 

“An old friend of mine. Did she contact you?” 

“Yes. Asked me what kind of flowers she should arrange to have at my funeral. Funny woman. I could tell why she was your friend.” 

“Did she say anything else?” 

“Only that it seemed that our dear Jimmy was definitely out to kill me.” My grip on his hand tightened. “Jesus Christ how many more bandages are there?” 

“Almost done. Then we’ll have to clean them.” 

I rolled my eyes. “So, are you going back into exile?” 

Sherlock shook his head. “No. Not while Moriarty and Olivia are at large at least. I am under surveillance twenty-four seven however.” 

“It’s to be expected. Your brother has to offer some solution to allow you to stay here.” 

“Speaking of my brother, he wanted to stop by when you’d woken and talk to you.” 

I frowned. “Can he wait until I’m at least able to hobble around on crutches?” 

“He...was a bit insistent about seeing you unfortunately.” 

“You’ve already contacted him and- ouch! Son of a bitch, what are you two doing back there?!” 

“Sorry,” Dr. Oswald said, leaning over to look in my face. “One of the bandages was stuck in the burn.” 

“Are you almost done?” 

“That was the last one. I’m going to clean it now and then we’ll put some new bandages on it. Your bandaging has to be changed every four to six hours due to weeping, so one of the nurses will be back in to-” 

“I’ll change them,” Sherlock said, looking at my face. No doubt he had seen that I was prepared with a retort. “I’ll be here when she needs her bandaging changed and I’ll do it.” 

“I’m sorry Mr. Holmes, but you are far from a medical professional.” 

“Yes, but I know she’d feel more comfortable if I did it. I’ve been watching you both. I can change them quite easily.” 

Dr. Oswald sighed. “There’s no use in arguing is there?” 

“No,” Sherlock and I both said, smiling at one another. 

“Fine. I’m risking my medical license, but because of what you did for my son a few years back, I will let you change her bandages Mr. Holmes. Now, this is going to sting a little. Dr. Watson, why don’t you take the upper back and I’ll take the lower?” 

I only winced as they began to wipe at the burns. I turned my attention back to Sherlock. “What sort of questions does your brother have?” 

“The same ones that I do. How did you figure out how to get out of the vest? How did you escape? What happened before you were brought to the building?” 

“I suppose I’ll tell both of you when he’s in here.” I sighed. “Things are going to be different now that Moriarty’s back, aren’t they?” 

“A bit. But we’ll get them. You can’t doubt that. Lila, you believe me when I say that, right?” 

I looked over his shoulder and once again I was on that beam, the wind tearing at me, the bomb strapped to my chest, a sniper’s sites focused on me. I was weeping and weeping, fear overwhelming me, heart racing. I began to fall and my thumb slipped off the switch. Then- 

“Lila?” I could hear the concern in his voice. “Lila, are you alright?” 

“What? Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” I focused on his face once more, but over his shoulder lingered the image of the building and the bomb. “So, when is Mycroft going to be coming?” 

“He should be here as soon as you’re bandaged and taken care of.” 

“Good. May as well bring in Lestrade and Molly. And your friend Irene Adler. Oh, and Mary as well. I’m only telling this story one time.” I closed my eyes, trying to shut out everything except for the pain radiating through my back. The pain blocked every other thought in my head out. “Let’s get story time over with.” 

I was sitting up in bed, watching as first Mycroft arrived, then Lestrade and Molly. John came back with a heavily pregnant Mary on his heels. She gave me a concerned look, immediately going to my bedside. I gave her a wan smile. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“I’ve had better days. How are _you,/i > feeling waddling around? I was going to call you the day Sherlock was leaving. I figured we had a lot to talk about. I owe you an apology.” _

__

__

“Don’t. Delilah, if anyone owes anyone an apology, it’s me. I should have told you sooner.” 

I rested one hand on her growing belly, feeling the baby move. “Let’s both say we’re sorry and move on. After all, there’s going to be a little one in the picture soon and I’d like to be around to see them.” 

“Her.” 

“Her? You mean you two know what-?” Mary nodded and I felt the tears touch my eyes. “Come here mother to be and give me a hug.” 

We embraced and I stayed that way for a few moments before pulling back, realizing that she was crying. I laughed, wiping at my own eyes. “Once I’m out of here, want to go and grab lunch?” 

“Of course.” 

“If this loving reunion is over, there’s much we have to discuss,” Mycroft drawled from his place by the window. “In case all of you have forgotten, Mr. and Mrs. Moriarty are still out and about, no doubt plotting the fall of the free world. _Again._ ” 

“I believe we’re still waiting for-“ 

“Me,” a female voice said. “Sorry, traffic was brutal.” 

I looked up to see a stunning brunette standing in the doorway. An awkward silence fell over the room and I glanced at Sherlock. There was a look in his eye, one that I didn’t care to see. What was it? Longing? Desire? I ran a hand through my hair, hardly wincing at the twinge in my back and the pain in my ribs. 

“You must be Irene Adler,” I said, staring at the blue-eyed woman who was smirking at me. 

“Yes,” she replied, closing the door behind her. “And you must be the dead woman walking. Oh, I can see why Jimmy would want to kill you.” 

I raised an eyebrow. “I’m assuming that you knew Mr. Moriarty on a more intimate level?” 

“I worked for him once upon a time, yes. But now I owe Sherlock for saving me from a beheading. I will say, when he called me the other day, I was quite surprised. Imagine how shocked I was when he told me he was _engaged.”_ She smirked, going to lean against the wall. “But, I’m assuming that you’ve got quite the tale to tell since you’ve brought all of us together.” 

“I do. But before I begin, I have to say this. All of us are here for one sole purpose. To bring Moriarty and my sister down and put an end to this madness. They will not stop until London is brought to its knees and until Sherlock and I are dead. They are both insane; Moriarty obsessed with Sherlock and my sister obsessed with recreating the world.” I looked from person to person. “In this room are the six people that Sherlock and I have come to trust to help us. Now I am asking all of you for your help. While he would not like to admit it, Sherlock and I cannot take them on alone. Its nearly killed us several times. Before I begin to tell my story, I am asking each and every one of you. Are you in or are you out?” 

I waited with baited breath, Sherlock taking my hand. “You know that I’m in Lila. Even if it’s just the two of us, we’ll get them.”

John stepped forward. “If you really think that I’m going to let you two go gallivanting off on your own after these psychopaths, then you’re mistaken. I’m with you until those two are in prison or dead.”

“Which means if John is helping than so am I,” Mary answered, placing one hand on her growing belly. 

“Lestrade and I are in too,” Molly said from my left. “We won’t let you do it without us. Right Lestrade?” 

“Er, right. Yeah, of course. We’ve gone this far. And I don’t like the idea of them blowing up buildings in my city or killing innocent citizens.” 

The smile on my face was growing and the grip I had on Sherlock’s hand tightened. _‘Two more. And those two will be the ones who make or break our case.’_

“I owe Sherlock a debt,” Irene said and I felt a stab of jealousy as she and Sherlock looked at each other. “I intend to return the favor. That and Moriarty caused me quite a bit of heartache. Let’s get the bastard.” 

I turned my gaze to Mycroft. “Well? Will the British government side with us?” 

“No. The British government will not,” I felt my heart sink. “But the _older brother_ will and that’s really all you need. Now tell us, what happened up there on that roof?” 

I told the entire story, starting from when I got home after being with Sherlock, all the way up until the point I woke up in the hospital. Everyone listened intently and when I finally finished, the room was silent. Mycroft and Sherlock both looked lost in thought and everyone else was glancing at each other, looking nervous. 

“They make mistakes. So they’re as human as we are,” Sherlock murmured. 

“Which means they’ll make another mistake,” Mycroft said, staring out the window. “The question is, when will they make that mistake and will we be ahead of them when they do?” 

I sighed. “I’m not sure. Why don’t you all go and discuss a plan of action? Sherlock can fill me in when you’re done. Now…I need to sleep. I’m tired.” 

“Of course,” Mary said. “You need your sleep to recover.” She approached the bedside, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “John and I will be by tomorrow. I can’t wait to go to lunch with you when you’re out.” 

“Neither can I. I’ll see you soon.” 

Everyone else said their good-byes until the only two people left in the room besides myself were Sherlock and Mycroft. The two brothers were silent, Mycroft staring out the window, Sherlock staring at the ceiling. 

“You two have more questions,” I said with a sigh, leaning back against the pillows. “Can they wait until tomorrow? I really do need to rest.” 

“I only have one,” Mycroft said, turning to look at me. “When did you become so intelligent? Have you been hiding it all this time?” 

Sherlock turned his gaze onto me. “That was my question as well. Since when have you been able to process information so quickly?” 

I closed my eyes. “Really? There are two murderous psychopaths out there and you both are questioning how I became smart? I haven’t exactly been an _idiot_ this entire time.” 

“You did the same thing that Sherlock and I can do,” Mycroft stated. “You’ve never done that before.” 

“I was under extreme stress,” I answered, looking between the both of them. “I think the adrenaline coursing through my veins helped speed the process up a bit.” 

“Let’s see,” Sherlock’s voice was soft and his eyes never left my face. “Try to recall anything and everything you can about Irene Adler. I want to see.” 

“What is there to see? I can’t tell you a single thing about the woman.” 

“Go to your Library and tell me.” 

I sighed, ignoring the twinge of my ribs. “Not right now Sherlock. I will once we’re out of the hospital. I need to sleep.” 

Mycroft shook his head, a smug grin on his face. “So you _are_ as dumb as I thought you to be. Pity that.” 

My temper flared up and I fixed my gaze on Mycroft. “You were with a woman last night. You’ve got a bit of her facial powder on the collar of your jacket as well as a smudge of lipstick against your neck right below your earlobe that you must have missed while you were grooming yourself this morning. There’s also the faintest trace of perfume on you, somewhat masked by your cologne, but not entirely. You’ve also been checking your phone every ten minutes, no doubt checking to see if you’ve missed a message from her, which means that you’re probably going to meet her as soon as you’re done here at the hospital.”

“You’ve also gotten a haircut recently and you should fire them for nicking you twice on the back of the neck. I noticed it when you went to the window to look out at the streets. You took the window for fear that someone was going to be watching, which in all likelihood someone would be. Also, your security needs to blend in a bit better. Your two men can’t fit into scrubs well. It would be better if they posed as someone visiting someone in the hospital or waiting for someone to get out of surgery. Anything else you’d like to know or may I finally rest?” I gave him what I hoped was a patronizing smile and I delighted in the look of shock on his face.

Sherlock began to laugh and Mycroft sniffed, wiping at the back of his neck self-consciously. “Well, if we are done here, I have matters that I need to attend to.”

He swept out of the room, slamming the door behind him and Sherlock began to roar with laughter. I chuckled softly, shaking my head. “You really did rub off on me.”

“Oh God, his f-face when you told him…where did that come from?”

“I’m not sure,” I answered, rolling onto my left side away from Sherlock. “But I intend to find out.”

I hit the button to my pain meds, drifting off into a confused sleep.


End file.
